


Believe

by MidoriKurenaiYume



Series: Far on the Water [1]
Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Betaed, Dialogue, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-08 13:17:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8846548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidoriKurenaiYume/pseuds/MidoriKurenaiYume
Summary: How the king of a mysterious place came to the village, turning young Arturia's world upside down.





	1. We still knew nothing

**Author's Note:**

> This story is VERY loosely inspired by the Milly/Adam relationship in the 1954 musical Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Contrary to most of my fics, in this one Arturia is younger and more naïve at the beginning. Gilgamesh will seem quite OOC, but the reason for it will be explained throughout the story.
> 
> Title: from a Kalafina song (16th single, part of the 'Far on the Water' album too). It fits the story in my opinion :P and of course the chapters' titles are lyrics from the song 'Believe'. Credits to the canta-per-me forum for the translation ;)  
> Heartfelt thanks to MimiBlue for her patient and kind beta work on this fic!

…

…

…

“Arturia, everyone is waiting.”

Arturia brought down the axe with precision again, without looking away from her task.

“The stew is already done, I’m coming.”

The old man grunted, chewing on his cigar.

“The clients are hungry; you can chop wood later.”

She put down the tool and picked up the chopped logs, looking up at him briefly.

“The fire is dying out, and there is still another pot of stew that needs to be warmed, for which we need wood. But I’m finished.”

He shook his head, mildly exasperated.

“I can’t even get upset at your stubbornness… It’s thanks to your infinite energy that this place is running so smoothly.”

He shook his head again at the girl he had taken under his wing a few years before, and watched as she nodded at him and brought her heavy load inside the kitchen, where she took the cleaning rags. She had already washed all the dishes earlier and was almost finished with the tidying up of the entire inn.

Ever since her father had died, leaving her only her horse but otherwise in complete poverty, she had been living there, as the inn owner had taken her in. He had known her father Uther and respected him as an integer man; he could hardly leave his young daughter to fend for herself. But since he wasn’t rich, he had asked for her cooperation in running the place, as he was getting a little too old to manage everything on his own.

Arturia had tenaciously started to work hard, as she did not intend to make him regret offering her a place to stay. She couldn’t say she was fond of some parts of her job, and she knew that the inn owner only valued her presence because of her skills, but nevertheless, it gave her the opportunity to live respectably, and she was grateful for that.

She removed her gloves after taking out a few things from the oven and quickly reached for her apron, as it was indeed time to take lunch to the clients. The kitchen was next to the main hall where she was going to serve the stew, which was very convenient to carry the food more easily, as the owner’s two elderly sisters always repeated.

It wasn’t unusual for her to have so much work to do, but these past few days had been particularly hectic because of the curious news that had sent the entire town into a frenzy.

Up in the mountains, very well hidden and so difficult to find that its existence itself had become somewhat a legend, there was rumoured to be a mysterious village. It was said to be isolated so well because it was rich beyond measure; in fact, it was said to be made entirely of gold. Most of the time it was just considered one of the many exaggerated stories travellers told when coming across the little city; but now things had changed.

The leader – or _king_ – of the mythical village had come himself to visit town.

Everyone had, at the very least, held some curiosity towards this mysterious person; and from what Arturia had heard – as she had not seen him yet – he had more than lived up to the rumours that called him rich, handsome and regal, filling anyone who had the chance of getting a glimpse of him with awe.

The townspeople had quickly decided that they intended to make a good impression on the powerful stranger, and since his arrival, there had been a bustling of activity all over. Even the inn owner had been caught by such a contagious agitation, and Arturia had been given tons of extra chores.

Privately, she found it a bit unreasonable. The inn was well-liked in town because it was a sufficiently respectable and quite welcoming place, but the chances of the strange king coming there were close to non-existent. It was therefore quite pointless to indulge into unnecessary work around the rooms, even though she knew that indeed, since people loved to gossip, the inn was their favourite place to gather and talk. It was not surprising, therefore, that there were so many customers these days. And that simply meant that there was more work to do, because nothing but perfect service was to be offered to the clients, so the place had to be spotless clean – as always.

She held back from sighing as she took the hot pot of stew, ready to go to serve lunch.

The old owner insisted that they had to be always ready in case someone of higher importance came there, but she was still very skeptical. People mostly came there simply to share anecdotes about the glimpses they had gotten of the mysterious visitor; there was no need to get particularly worked up on such a normal day.

But the heavy pot almost fell from her arms as she finally entered the main hall – and _there_ he was.

…

…

She had not expected the foreigner to be there at the inn – much less to meet his gaze.

Yet there he was, and he was _staring_ at her.

He was staring… as if he had been _waiting_ for her.

But that was ridiculous. She should stop being so foolish in imagining things. She concentrated on keeping the pot steady in her arms, and fought hard not to blink.

The descriptions she had heard of him were accurate. Spiked up golden hair – _kissed by sun_ , a traveller had once murmured – haughty and implacable crimson eyes, kingly countenance, suitable clothes for his status… His mere presence caught the eye of every person in the room, and even if he was sitting at one of the tables like everyone else, it was obvious that no one dared come closer to him, no small amount of respectful fear keeping them frozen in their places.

Gathering her courage, she tried to keep her features firm on a polite smile and started to serve lunch to the first table next to her, going from one person to the other as calmly as her fast-beating heart allowed it.

Slowly, but quicker than she would have wished, she found herself at the foreigner’s table. Aware of the fact that everyone else was observing her every action and trying to eavesdrop, she gave another polite but tight smile.

“Would you like to have the house’s lunch, sir?” she offered, as she did with everyone who wasn’t a usual patron.

Being so close to him, she could observe him better. He was staring straight into her eyes, and his features – very handsome ones – were currently unreadable, but she had a hunch that, should he want it, he would be able to make them be very expressive. However, he was a person obviously used to showing only what he _wanted_ to be seen, and clearly someone used to having his own way.

He wordlessly inclined his head a fraction, without breaking eye contact, letting her know that he did indeed want a meal. She tore her gaze away to fill his plate warily, concentrating on holding the ladle firmly as her hand was trembling slightly, before turning around to approach the next table.

She hadn’t even had the time to let out a small breath of relief when he suddenly spoke up behind her, making her freeze.

“You haven’t given me any condiment together with the stew.”

She turned around to face him again, her composed expression still in place, but she was fully aware of the complete silence in the room. Everyone was obviously waiting to see how she would reply, and if she had not been imagining things again, from the small glint she thought she had seen in the foreigner’s eyes, he seemed actually interested in hearing her answer as well.

“This stew can stand on its own feet, sir, I assure you. Please give it a try.”

There were many gasps in the room, as people were obviously shocked by such a reply. It was nothing unusual for Arturia to politely stand her ground, but to keep doing so in front of an awe-inspiring stranger was quite the feat – and many wondered if she hadn’t gone too far.

The blond man held her gaze and then, without breaking it, slowly brought a forkful of the stew to his mouth and chewed on it even more slowly. The entire inn held its breath.

He looked down at the plate and then back at Arturia, before astonishing everyone by giving a short, small nod.

“It is… satisfactory.”

Knowing that he was still a client and she could not push her luck – while she had never intended to back down, she knew she had to be careful with unknown foreigners – she returned his nod and went on to serve lunch to everyone else as well.

But inside, she could feel her heart beating incredibly fast. As soon as she finished serving everyone their lunch and was back in the kitchen, she took a deep breath and carefully, making an effort to pay attention to her task, started to put more wood on the fire hearth.

She could try to stifle it and hide it from prying eyes, but she could not lie to herself. The moment she had met those crimson eyes, she had felt a shock run through her. He had seemed fixated on her, and in some odd way, she was actually grateful for it, because it had not made too noticeable the fact that she was equally fixated on _him_.

What was going on with her?

If he caused such worrisome feelings in her, it was best if she kept away from him.

...

...

...


	2. We met by chance

…

…

…

Arturia did not usually work at the hall’s counter in the evenings, because many people who came to the inn when the day was about to end drank a little too much, and their behaviour could sometimes become too forward.

In fact, to be blunter, people – mainly men, but some women as well – tended to begin to stare at her figure appreciatively, no matter how unflatteringly she was dressed considering that her blue dress was old and full of patches. It was true that there was enough work to keep her busy and ignore the stares, but she did not like the lewd looks she received, nor the calls and whistles, especially later in the night.

Luckily, on that she had reached an agreement with the old owner. Since she was an excellent cook and always worked hard, she had managed to extract the promise from him that she could stay in the kitchen and would not have to be in the midst of the clients after a certain hour, when the patrons would begin to get drunk.

But on that specific evening, right when there was a high influx of clients, the owner’s elderly sisters, who were usually in charge at the counter, came down with a slight fever and were unable to work. And since there were too many people – no matter how already drunk they were – the owner could not deal with everything on his own. Arturia was the only one who could help out.

She didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter, and against her will, she found herself in the midst of the not-so-lucid patrons. Among them, there was still the mysterious foreigner, who had not left the entire time, and whose eyes still kept following her around.

Contrary to everyone else, however, he did not seem to be even remotely tipsy; in fact, to her pleased surprise, Arturia had not seen him drink even a drop of alcohol. And _no_ , that wasn’t because she had been observing him; she had simply been unable to ignore the feeling of _his_ gaze on her and had therefore frequently looked in his direction.

Once again, as she went to bring the plates full of food to the clients, she made an effort to try to ignore the foreigner. He had no right to have so much power over her.

One of the already drunk men who was politely served his late dinner stared at her dreamily and smiled up at her.

“Won’t you marry me, my lovely Arturia?” he said loudly, and even if his words were a bit slurred, everyone could hear him clearly.

She merely lifted an eyebrow as she poured wine in a glass for another customer. _Not again,_ she thought. This had been going on for a while already.

“What would your wife say to that, Mr. Shirou,” she said, forcing herself to give a smile.

There were a few laughs in the room as the red-haired man pouted, and Arturia went on to the other side of the room, where a patron she knew quite well sat all broody in a corner. She put the full glass he had requested on his table, but before she could retract her hand, he had grabbed it and was staring at her with something akin to anxiety.

“Just marry me, Arturia! Please!”

Gently, her voice lowering a bit, she murmured, “I am not your Guinevere, Mr. Lancelot. I know that you miss her, but I cannot replace her.”

Feeling observed and somehow knowing exactly who it was who was observing her, she turned away to put her empty tray back on the counter and made to move around it, when suddenly the hands of another drunken man went around her, to pull her body to him.

She was pressed into his arms; she felt the stench of alcohol in his breath as his blue hair brushed against her cheek and he murmured against her skin, “Mmm, _Rin_ …”

Skilfully, she pushed him off, making him land on a chair, while she swirled out of the way, composedly finding herself behind the counter and muttering under her breath, “Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Shinji.”

She was repulsed by the way that drunk man had just behaved, and she desperately wished she could do more to defend herself from such vulgar specimen. Unfortunately, since they were clients, she was not allowed to react more decisively.

She could still feel the foreigner’s eyes on her, and she actually had to wonder if he had heard every word she had uttered that evening. Not that it actually mattered, of course.

She couldn’t wait for the night to be over so that she could retire and go to sleep, for she truly hated being on shift at this hour, when almost no one was in their right mind anymore. And she was uncomfortable under the constant gaze of the stranger, especially since she seemed to meet his eyes even when she didn’t mean to.

He was a puzzling person, she considered. From what the rumours said and from his haughty behaviour, he seemed to be of difficult tastes, yet he had not been particularly demanding at their modest inn. He had not complained about the food and was sitting among all the other patrons, quite normally; at the same time, he was spending an awful lot of time staring intently at _her_.

She knew she was not imagining it, because she herself had almost been unable to look away from him – as humiliating as it was to admit – and she could not miss the fact that his eyes were on her more often than not.

It was odd. She had learned to ignore men’s lascivious gazes focused interestedly on her curves, and that was why she could feel that this was different.

He was looking at _her_ , not at her body. He was _different_ from other men.

Yet his gaze seemed to pierce her far more than the stares of any other person who had ever looked at her before.

…

…

Not all of the patrons had left when the inn owner indicated that he had to speak with her, and she followed him to the kitchen.

“Some clients have reported problems with the water in their bedrooms,” he informed her worriedly.

She raised an eyebrow, confused.

“What kind of problems?”

“It seems like it’s not working,” he replied, and threw a glance to the other room, checking on the number of people left.

Arturia looked in the same direction, thinking out loud, “There are only a few clients left, I doubt my presence is needed here. I’ll go to the intersection to make sure everything is fine there.” She paused, furrowing her brow. “Hopefully it’s just the neighbours using up all the water, like last time.”

She saw that he was reassured, so she left him to go out through the back door. The intersection, from where the water for the entire town arrived, wasn’t too far from there; it took her only a short walk on foot.

It was in an area about six feet lower than the ground, and there was only an iron ladder to climb down to get there. It was already dark, as it was very late into the night, and with only her small lamp, she found it hard to see anything down there. Since there were other tasks to be completed outside the inn, she had taken a basket with the things she would later need as well; she left it on top of the dell before climbing down the ladder.

As her feet landed on the bottom, she could feel that the ground was wet, and her lamp quickly revealed what was wrong. The main pipe that received the water from the power plant – where the water was cleansed – was no longer in its right place, but had been pushed a little to the side, probably by the force of the heavy load, and a large amount of the water was flowing out, soaking the place where she was standing. Eventually, the whole terrain was going to be filled with it.

The only thing to do was put the pipe back in place, or the entire town would soon be left without water, and there was therefore no time to lose. There was also no time to call anyone else for help.

Arturia frowned. While she was comfortable in her own skin, she could not help wishing she had more natural strength in this occasion, because she would have needed more than what she had for this particular task.

But where strength could not reach, then cleverness and strategy would have to supply.

She studied the water pipe. It was crooked and wrongly placed, and it could not bring water that way. It _had_ to be moved back in place, but since she did not have enough brute strength, the best solution was to use something as a lever.

The pipe was very large, and she would have needed quite a resistant object to slide underneath it and use it to make the pipe fall back into place. Whatever object it was, it would then have to remain there, to keep the pipe firmly in the correct position until people more familiar with that kind of repairing could come and fix it fully.

She frowned again. If she did what she had in mind, then she was not going to be able to climb out of that hole, and since no one was likely to come look for her before morning, she would have to spend the rest of the night there. But if she didn’t do anything, then everyone would remain without water and in the meantime the entire dell would be filled with it, making the necessary reparations much more difficult in the future.

She made her decision. After all, it wasn’t too cold that night, and she had had to sleep in much worse places in the past.

Taking the iron ladder from against the vertical walls – staggering a little under its weight but firmly keeping her balance nonetheless – she used all her strength to force it to slide underneath the pipe, and the water pouring out of it was actually useful, as it made it slicker and aided her in her task. Using it then as a lever, in less than a minute and with a loud _crack_ the pipe was correctly pushed back into place, with the ladder’s weight making it steadily remain there.

She took a small breath of relief. At least now, the water was flowing again and the entire town would no longer have problems.

Holding up the lamp with one hand to examine her work, she allowed herself a small, proud smile. If the price to pay was having to remain in that dell the rest of the night – dawn was approaching anyway – then so be it.

“Brains instead of brawn. Cleverly done.”

Startled by the sound of someone speaking when she had thought she was alone, she snapped her head up in shock. There, on top of the exact place where the ladder had been, was the foreigner, looking down at her with a strange expression but a smirk on his face as well.

She blinked a few times, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. What was he doing there?

He went to lift the basket she had left outside the dell, and his smirk widened in amusement as he felt its heaviness. “You have strength as well though, I see. But indeed, you had already proved it earlier when you were chopping wood.”

Had he been watching her even before she went to serve lunch…? No wonder he had seemed so fixated on her…

After a brief silence, she finally said, a short hesitation in her voice, “I thought that everyone was either at the inn or at their place.”

His eyes still hadn’t left her, and he didn’t seem to want to tear them off her anytime soon.

“I heard the inn owner saying that the water was not working, and you disappeared right after that. I had the mayor tell me about this place, and when I arrived, there you were – a young woman fully occupied, on her own, in fixing a problem that would have caused the entire town grave troubles.”

He inclined his head to the side as he continued, “A brave woman who didn’t think twice about trapping herself in this place if it meant helping the people of her town.”

She felt the need to shift on her feet, but repressed it.

“I will survive. There are worse places to sleep in compared to this,” she said curtly, as she finally broke their gaze, looking at her lamp.

He did not seem inclined to call for other villagers to fix the pipe issue, instead seeming very much content in just staring at her. However, she was beginning to feel irritated, because she did not like his tone and wasn’t looking forward to listening to him anymore; she could do without his condescension.

But she was taken aback when he kneeled down next to the edge and offered her his hand.

She stared up at his face in shock, and then down at where he was kneeling, and uttered the first thing that went through her mind as she indicated the spot with her finger, “You will get all filthy.”

He was still a guest in town, she could not forget that, so why was he–

She didn’t have the time to do anything before he grabbed her extended hand and, with surprising strength, hoisted her up almost effortlessly.

She was out of the dell – she was sitting on the dry ground, her lamp having fallen from her hand, with her wet skirt clinging to her legs – and she was in the foreign king’s arms.

Immediately feeling her heartbeat increase, she crawled back a bit, putting some distance between them and occupying her slightly trembling hands by grabbing her basket.

She cleared her throat.

“Thank you,” she said, with as much warmth as she dared. “There was no need.”

He handed her her fallen lamp, without saying anything, and she studied him in curiosity. How long had he actually been there, intent on observing her?

Her words flew out before she could stop them. “If you have been here for a while and if you have seen that there was a serious problem to fix, why did you not consider offering your help earlier?”

Her tone was matter-of-factly, but she felt like slamming her hand over her mouth after speaking in such a way to the stranger. It was rude and it was presumptuous to address him like that – even though it was in fact true that, if he had wanted to be gentlemanly, he could have had the decency to reveal himself at least a short while before.

He only looked amused though, and his reply took her aback.

“I did not offer help because you were in no need of it. Had you been a damsel in distress, then I would have probably called upon some gallant fool to help you; but that was not the case. You were not asking for help even a few minutes ago, as you had fully accepted your situation and were completely in control of it.”

She could not help staring at him. He was peculiar indeed!

Her wits coming back to her, feeling her blood deafeningly pounding in her ears, she quietly said, her blunt sincerity getting the best of her, “You are odd… sir.”

He didn’t seem very pleased with what she said, but not for the reason she thought.

“To be fair, we all have our reasons to be odd in our own way. But don’t call me ‘sir’ anymore. I am not one of the patrons right now.”

Curiosity filling her once again, she was bold enough to ask, with sufficient calmness, “If I may ask then, what is your name?”

His crimson eyes gleamed as he replied, “It’s Gilgamesh.”

As soon as he had said that, he stood up, and offered her his hand to help her stand as well. After a second of hesitation, she accepted it, noticing for the first time how much mud covered them both.

She indicated his clothes.

“I will wash those for you, as it was my fault–”

“Nonsense,” he brushed her away. “There is no need for such a thing. You aren’t to blame in the least.”

He astonished her even more when he offered her his arm. “Let me escort you back to the inn.”

It had been a long time since she had been objected to such a form of gallantry, and she almost gaped at him for how much time and effort he was spending on her – but she couldn’t accept that kindness from him. The lamp’s light was already getting superfluous, which meant that it was almost dawn.

And if it was almost dawn, it meant that there was a great amount of chores awaiting her, and there was no time to sleep.

She bowed slightly in thanks.

“I am grateful for your kind offer, but I must decline. I have work to do.”

He eyed her with a strange gaze.

“At this hour?”

She nodded, her expression steadfast and honest.

“I have to milk the cows. Otherwise the guests will not have their breakfast.”

She made a wide movement with her arm, to show that dawn was approaching, and then took up her basket again.

Arturia had no idea why, but the foreigner – Gilgamesh, apparently – seemed to be interested in her answer, and he surprised her by offering her his arm again.

“Show me.”

Bewildered, she stared.

“I believe you should get some sleep, as there is little time before dawn,” she tried.

He took her arm, elegantly linking it with his, wordlessly proving that he was not going to be deterred. He truly meant to accompany her to the stables.

It wasn’t too far from there, but Arturia still hesitated when they were about to reach them. She freed her arm and turned to look the stranger in the eye, but he gave her another of his odd smirks, which clearly said that he was serious in wanting to see what her tasks were.

Suppressing a sigh, as she was not understanding what was going on, she entered the place, closely followed by him.

A loud neigh made them both back away abruptly, but a second later Arturia put her basket down and rushed forward, grabbing the nervous horse’s reins and holding them firmly.

“Shhh… shhhh, Milk, calm down, everything’s fine, it’s me…”

The tone of her voice, soothing and tranquil, calmed the animal and she affectionately stroked its mane, not noticing at first how her companion was looking at her with a gaze full of inquisitive attentiveness.

“Do you ride?”

She could now feel his eyes, completely concentrated on her, and kept her own on the horse as she nodded briefly.

“Yes, I do. This is Milk, my mare.”

His tone was almost incredulous as he lifted both eyebrows.

“You called your horse ‘Milk’?”

Disregarding his disbelief, she merely nodded again, with a serious expression on her face.

“Milk is something far more important than one could believe, yet it’s often forgotten. It’s one of the very few things babies can be nursed with, for example. It’s the basis of our growth as human beings, and it’s a fundamental nourishment in our lives – and in the lives of many other animals.”

Her hands still stroked the mare with silent care. “My horse is white, and that has influenced my choice as well, but what I wanted was not a grandiose name. I wanted to name her after something simple, yet important.”

The intensity in his stare was such as to make her feel the need to remain even more concentrated on her horse, and she firmly told herself that she would not blush. She would not behave like a fool only because that foreigner was staring at her as if he truly couldn’t look away.

“Perhaps you’re an odd one as well, miss,” he said, and since the amusement in his tone was unmistakable, it made her finally feel composed enough to bring her eyes away from Milk and look at him. But the strange intensity in his orbs did nothing to truly calm her down; a bit unnerved, she focused on one last caress for her mare.

His voice however surprised her, continuing easily, “You’re also a sweet one.”

She was glad she was taking off Milk’s reins and was turned away from him so that he could not see her face flaming up slightly.

Managing to find a sufficient composure again, she said, “It’s Arturia.”

With a hint of defiance, she added then, turning around to face him firmly, “But I believe you already know that.”

“I do, but indeed I prefer hearing you tell me your name yourself,” he smoothly admitted, without a trace of embarrassment, and she narrowed her eyes.

So he was not denying that he had been watching her, and quite closely. Arturia had a little difficulty in hiding the fact that she was suddenly feeling slightly uneasy and a bit worried.

She was alone with this stranger, and she knew close to nothing about him; what if he had evil intentions? What if he meant her harm? It was best to start milking the cows right away, especially because dawn was quickly approaching.

Before that, she had to wash some mud off herself first, and the foreigner – Gilgamesh – probably wasn’t going to mind doing the same.

As graciously as possible, she indicated the fountain in one slightly secluded part of the stable.

“If you wish for some water to get cleaned…”

He raised an eyebrow.

“After you.”

She was surprised for a second, but then a thought struck her: maybe he had never seen a fountain of that kind. Shaking her head at herself for not thinking of it sooner, she approached the fountain and vigorously lifted the lever a couple of times, in order to make water pour out and fill the bucket that was in front of it. She was pleased to see that it was working perfectly, and that meant that her actions with the pipe had been useful.

The cold water in which she immersed her arms to wash her hands and then to splash on her face was more than enough to wake her up fully, and she smiled a little, feeling invigorated.

She could still feel his eyes on her and when she looked up to meet them, he appeared to be intrigued by the fountain as he took her place next to it and made use of the lever to pour out water as well.

She didn’t however have much time to remain focused on observing him, as she reminded herself that there were four cows to milk. Turning away, she went to retrieve one of the milk buckets and neared the first cow, putting it under it.

She felt a movement behind her and was taken by surprise – _again_ – when he brought her the small stool she used to seat herself as she milked.

She gave him a startled glance and a mumbled, “Thank you,” which merely made him give her a wide grin. She took a seat and focused on her work.

Instead of taking his leave as she had expected, however, he remained next to her and seemed keen on studying her.

Again feeling unnerved under that inexplicable scrutiny, she began, “Mr. … Gilgamesh?”

“Just Gilgamesh,” he corrected her. “There is no need for you to use any titles with me.”

Her surprise and sense of wonder were growing by the second. She had thought that he was arrogant and that he would focus on keeping the differences between their statuses obvious – but if that was the case, why did he instead seem adamant about doing the opposite?

Still looking at the cow she was milking, she finally said, deciding she might as well be bold, “Gilgamesh, what is making you spend the early morning here in the stable?”

The intensity in his gaze on her was such as to make it wholly impossible for her to concentrate on what she was doing.

“Why, I am here because I intend to ask for your hand, Arturia.”

...

...

...


	3. I believed in just believing

…

…

…

She froze in her spot, abruptly stopping what she was doing, and looked up at him, astonished.

He _what_?

Completely calm, he stroked the cow that had been startled by her sudden stillness, and showed he was familiar with the animal by quieting it. Almost mechanically, Arturia resumed milking it, her mind still unable to wrap around what she had just heard.

He had… proposed to her.

He continued, very bluntly, “If I had the time, Arturia, I would court you properly. I would come by the inn frequently and engage you in regular conversation, taking care to make it longer every time I visit. I would meet you in town and offer you my aid in your tasks to spend more time with you. I would observe you more, much more than I had the opportunity and pleasure of doing today, and I would talk to you about my village. And only once I knew you better – only _then_ would I ask for your hand in marriage.”

He was suddenly much closer, and kneeled next to her, freeing her small hands and taking them in his. “But I do not have the luxury of such time, much to my displeasure. This evening I will be leaving to go back to my village, and will not come back for many months – perhaps years. Therefore, I ask this of you: _marry me_ , and become my queen, Arturia.”

She was unable to give a reply of any kind, and could only stare into his crimson eyes, so intently fixated on her dumbfounded green ones.

After a long silence, she finally managed to utter, “Why me?”

A strange sort of smile appeared on his face, “Because you’re _you_ , Arturia.”

In spite of her astonishment, she still had the presence of mind to be doubtful of his words. Yet she threw away her caution and the fact that he was a foreign king, and decided to directly speak her mind.

“You are not being truthful. I have no dowry, no family, no prospective. I have only myself, and if you were even remotely serious in what you say, the rules of society demand that you should be having this conversation with my guardian.”

But she was surprised when his hold on her hands became firmer. “No. I am not asking him or anyone else for your hand, Arturia. I am asking _you_. I will have only _your_ answer, not have anyone else answer for you.”

She couldn’t have been more surprised. Not only was he asking for her hand in marriage, he was also valuing her as a person instead of a mere property to be obtained as a wife. Was this for real?

How…? Why…? She dismissed those questions. His eyes did not leave any possibility of him being false. He was being serious in his request.

In that case… what would happen if she accepted?

If she accepted him, if she married the foreigner Gilgamesh, she would be leaving for a hidden, legendary place, to become its queen. She would be leaving the place she had lived in all her life, which was also a place that offered her no future.

And this huge change would happen on this day, on this very evening – before nightfall.

Even if it turned out to be a trap… why should she not accept?

She stared at him, still trying to wrap her mind around it. From what she had seen of him, he certainly wasn’t particularly courteous, nor would she have called him a gentleman. While he had given her a hand more than once, he didn’t strike her as a person who was generous. There was indeed an alluring charm about him, and she could not deny the strong attraction she felt for him. Her heart seemed to become wild whenever he was in her vicinity, and the way he stared at her did not leave her many doubts about the fact that he was truly interested in her.

But that was precisely the point. If he had been staring at her like many other men did – with lust or lewd glances – then she would have been disgusted and kept as much distance from him as possible. His eyes had instead always been fixated on _her_ , as a person, not at her body, and he even seemed to appreciate it when she spoke her mind and was herself without that useless politeness.

While he seemed to look down on people on occasion, she had seen that he did not mistreat the people he was with, and while he was probably used to being served, he had not been demanding in his requests at the inn, and he had talked to her very civilly.

If she left the inn, no one was going to miss her. The old owner had been kind to her, but he valued her presence there mostly because of her cooking skills and didn’t actually care much about anything else. Her place there was certainly better than not having anything at all, but as much as she had always tried to stifle it, she did not like the life she had at the moment.

What kind of life would instead await her as his wife? She did not think he would be the type to be cruel to her, but if he were, then she would make him regret it and would reassert herself. She knew she was too attracted to him already to be able to refuse him as it was.

If her choice turned out badly… she would deal with it.

“What do you say then, Arturia?” he asked again, his expression neutral as he waited for her reply.

She looked away from him, gently freeing her hands that were still in his grasp and beginning to milk the cow again.

“I have to finish my chores first,” she finally said, as calmly as possible.

A satisfied light flashed through his eyes, and he suddenly gave her a smile. She had never seen him smile, and was surprised by how much it made him look handsomer than he already was.

She could not look away, feeling oddly mesmerized, and didn’t react when his hand reached forward and put a few locks of her hair, which had escaped her usual bun, back in place behind her ear, in a fleeting caress. Thankfully, she didn’t react _outwardly_ ; yet inside, her heart was beating faster than she remembered it ever beating.

“I will have the pastor ready in a few hours and make all the necessary arrangements,” he said, before adding, “Do you have any belongings that need to be packed?”

She was unable to meet his eyes again, and forced herself to focus on milking.

“I do not possess much. I will take care of everything myself. Only… only my horse might prove a bit restless if not guided by a firm hand.”

He nodded, not seeming alarmed, and asked again, “Your dresses? Your other possessions?”

She was quiet only for a second, before admitting, “I only possess this one dress.”

It had once been a lovely blue gown; now, it was old and full of patches. She made sure to wash it every day, but after the eventful night at the water intersection, it was obviously covered in mud, certainly not a pleasant sight for the king of a rich village.

His hand under her chin took her by surprise, and she did not have the time to resist when he made her turn her face towards him, staring into her eyes.

“I don’t care one bit about what you’re wearing, Arturia, as you are perfect the way you are. But worry not about your clothes, as there will be plenty of my late mother’s for you at my village.”

She stared at him for a moment, before quietly but firmly saying, “I shall be proud to wear something that belonged to your mother.”

He closed the gap between them for less than a second, pressing his lips against hers briefly before pulling back and looking at her with a strange light in his eyes, and smirked slightly.

“I will see you very soon.”

The next moment, he was gone, and she was alone in the stable. Stopping in her task right away, Arturia gave in to an impulse and buried her face in her hands, her emotions overwhelming her for a second.

She knew she was acting like a teenager… but she _was_ a teenager, after all. A teenage girl who had just decided to get married to a man she barely knew.

In spite of that, she smiled a little bit.

It wasn’t that bad as the end of her rather eventful night, all things considered.

…

…

Gilgamesh was extremely satisfied. The pretty, small, hard-working woman – Arturia – was going to be his wife.

He liked how dedicated she was as a person and the way she thought, making decisions for the best of others. He found her a genuinely interesting woman, but he did indeed not have time to court her or any of that nonsense. He had been careful not to tell her much about his village, nor to let her know his true intentions, and he would have been a little taken aback at her naïveté at agreeing to marry him so quickly if he had not seen how other men behaved.

There were so many lewd, vulgar fools in that town. If they stared at Arturia, it was merely to appreciate her body; not one of them seemed interested in anything more than her cooking skills or her appearance. None of them seemed to notice that she was an intelligent young woman who worked hard and whose merits surpassed those of a pretty face.

But it didn’t matter. Since she had accepted his proposal, it was the town’s loss.

And even if he had kept quiet on some things about his own village, well, soon enough Arturia was going to find out anyway.

...

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	4. Until this dream gently ends

…

…

…

Arturia didn’t have only the cows to milk, she had many other duties at the inn, which included dusting, cleaning and cooking; she also made sure to find some time to clean up her muddy clothes. After confirming that the water system was now running smoothly for the clients, she reported that the water intersection was going to need some repair work, explaining everything about the broken pipe.

When she finally had a few moments to herself, she went to her room and packed her things. She possessed very little indeed: everything more or less fit in a large bag. She didn’t need to take the time to give one last glance to the place she had lived in for the past five years though, because while she had not been miserable there, she hadn’t been happy either.

Seeing her come down the stairs with her bag and her simple coat in hand, the inn owner raised an eyebrow and asked for an explanation.

Arturia put her bag down near the entrance and quietly informed him, “I packed my things because I’m getting married and I’m leaving. My…” She hesitated briefly. “My future husband is going to come here soon.”

The elderly man did not seem particularly impressed or worried, as it was clear that he didn’t believe her.

“Who’s the lucky fella?” he said, smirking.

“That would be me,” a voice came from behind the door, before it opened and a man appeared in the threshold.

The cigar dropped from the old man’s mouth as the foreign king gave his arm to the young woman, who accepted it without hesitation. All the other patrons in the room, who had followed the verbal exchange, were gaping as well, astonished.

She looked at the man who had taken her in after the death of her father, and said, “I am truly grateful to you for having given me a place to stay after my family passed away. I wish you all the best. Goodbye.”

The old man could only nod to acknowledge her words, before she and the village leader were gone, directed to the pastor’s home to pronounce their vows and to finally get married.

…

…

Before she even knew it, Arturia found herself in the carriage, with her brand-new husband sitting next to her, both of them covered by heavy blankets for the long trip that awaited them.

He kept staring at her, a slight smirk curving his lips, and she was dismayed to find out that she couldn’t hold his gaze without recalling that she had agreed to marry him _that same morning_ , after a sleepless night, a good part of which had been spent in his company.

And now, after agreeing only a few hours before, she was already married to him. She could not stare at him with the ease she wished she possessed.

But when she looked away – she would _never_ lower her eyes – his hand sneaked under her chin, once again, and coaxed her to come face to face with him. He was too close for comfort, but as she kept reminding herself, he was her husband now, and she was not about to swallow the lump she could feel in her throat in front of him.

“Don’t hide from me, Arturia. I like seeing your eyes.”

He came a little forward, in a repeat of his gesture of that morning of lightly kissing her, and then leaned back but pulled her with him so that she was now much closer to him, her entire body securely held in his arms.

Again he kissed her, this time pressing his lips to hers far more deeply, and after a stunned second, she couldn’t stop herself from kissing him back as well.

When they separated, her breath was heavy, and it seemed that he wasn’t unaffected either. She could see that his eyes looked a little darker and his pupils were dilated when his forehead pressed against hers, and he held her tight as he caressed her cheek with strange tenderness.

“It’s best if you rest, my dear. It’s going to be a long trip, and you didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.”

At his words, she didn’t hesitate to lean against his chest and close her eyes, feeling his arms around her, holding her firmly.

It wasn’t a familiar position and it wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable one she had ever been in, but her lack of sleep was finally catching up with her. Plus, she was in her _husband’s_ arms, a man for whom she had developed feelings far too quickly, maybe so fast as to even call them love at first sight.

That was a not an unpleasant thought; therefore, snuggling into his embrace, she allowed her undeniable tiredness to make her finally fall asleep.

…

…

It took the entire night of travelling for them to arrive at the hidden village, but Arturia didn’t notice, as she slept through it.

It was mid-morning of the following day when Gilgamesh woke her up, telling her that they were about to arrive. She didn’t have the time to be concentrated on his peculiar expression when he said that though, because the beautiful scenery captured her attention.

From inside the carriage, she could see a wonderfully glowing village, perfectly encased between three mountains, with a river flowing in the middle of it and with mighty, flourishing trees growing around it. If they had not been on a specific, very small road that cut precisely down a narrow path in the mountains, they wouldn’t have been able to see the City of Gold, much less reach it.

She smiled as she took in the sight of the village she was going to call her home from now on, and turned to face her husband.

“It’s a beautiful place.”

He gave her a small smile as well.

“Indeed it is. It’s a true El Dorado.”

But his expression wasn’t distended, it was slightly displeased, as if he was expecting something to happen, and he seemed to be… worried.

Not long after, the carriage stopped in front of a grandiose building that could have been labelled a castle rather than a house. He held her hand to politely help her descend, and she was puzzled at seeing his eyes look mildly apprehensive – but she didn’t have the time to think about it, because three very busy looking men, one with long green hair, another with short white hair and the last with brown hair, suddenly appeared in front of her.

“You truly managed to find a wife during such a short trip, Gilgamesh?” the first one asked, a bit incredulous.

The second one seized her up.

“She’s the queen now? Finally someone will make this place look decent again…”

The third didn’t say a word, he simply stared at her impassively.

Arturia felt slightly disoriented, but as Gilgamesh wasn’t saying anything, she decided to speak.

“Since we haven’t been introduced yet, may I know your names, please?”

The three looked at her in surprise and, as if suddenly realizing something, were quick to bow at her.

“Enkidu, the king’s first hand, my lady,” the green-haired man replied, while the second said, “Emiya, accountant, my lady,” and the third, almost at the same time, “Kirei, responsible of the administration of justice, my lady.”

She nodded at all three of them, maintaining a pleasant expression on her face.

“It’s very nice to meet you. My name is Arturia.”

Their stares on her were not making her feel very comfortable, but luckily for her, a white-haired woman suddenly appeared out of nowhere and bowed to her as well. The man who had introduced himself as Enkidu grasped Arturia’s hand politely, with deference, and guided her towards the newly arrived woman.

“This is Irisviel, our cook,” he explained. “I am sure you have your instructions for her, and you can start immediately, my lady.”

Not understanding what he meant, she objected, “Forgive me, but…”

He nodded as if guessing her thoughts right away.

“Maid Illya will bring all your belongings for you, my lady, but now there’s no time. We’ve been expecting you and everyone is ready to follow your orders.”

_Orders?_

Bewildered, Arturia found herself next to the white-haired woman who, in spite of the colour of her hair, looked quite young and smiled at her shyly.

“It’s an honour, my lady. The entire staff awaits your directives.”

The blonde woman turned her head to find her husband, as she didn’t understand what was going on, but the man named Emiya had already intervened, Kirei silently at his side, “My king, the kingdom’s affairs await you.”

Without giving her more than a brief, impassive glance from which she couldn’t discern a thing, he turned away from her to follow the other two men – Enkidu joined them as well – towards another part of the building, disappearing and leaving her alone with the cook.

Irisviel seemed eager to guide her, but Arturia was done in having things happen around her that she didn’t understand. There was a feeling of dread in the back of her mind, because perhaps she _was_ beginning to understand, but she refused to believe or even just follow that line of thought until she was certain.

“Lady Irisviel,” she began, but the other woman gave her a startled glance.

“I’m just Irisviel, my lady; there is no need for this formality. If you would follow me–”

“Irisviel,” Arturia’s voice had a certain edge that made the white-haired woman freeze immediately, recognizing the signs of a person who was beginning to lose their patience, “I would much appreciate it if you could explain to me what is going on.”

The other woman seemed very confused by the question.

“I beg your pardon, my lady, but are you not our king’s wife? Our queen?”

Arturia inclined her head in the affirmative, knowing that that was what she had agreed to become when she had gotten married.

“I am.”

Irisviel seemed even more confused.

“Both the king and the queen have the tasks of overseeing everything that happens in the village. Our king is very busy with the direct and general aspects of governing, and doesn’t have the time to organize the staff or look after the smaller matters of our people. Thus, his main intention when leaving was to find a wife in order to balance the load of work, if you allow me the expression. Since you are here, therefore, shall we start now, my lady?”

It was for the best that Irisviel was not looking at her, for with every word that left her lips, Arturia felt her heart break, piece by piece, and she knew that what she was feeling was clearly reflected on her face.

Gilgamesh had not married her because he cared about her, that much was obvious. He had married her because she was young and was not afraid of hard work – and since he was the leader of a village with a lot of tasks to oversee, he needed someone on whom he could dump a part of his responsibilities. And she… she, like an air-headed fool… she hadn’t had the least suspicion and had fallen for his words without ever questioning them.

But there was no time to get lost in the sudden feelings of betrayal and wretchedness that were threatening to take over her mind as she was forced to face the truth. She resolutely put a mask on her face and forced herself to keep a calm demeanour.

The hall of the house, and later the kitchen, were filled with people who seemed eager to listen to any kind of directives she would give. As she walked through the corridors, Arturia noticed that it was indeed a splendid place, but no one was taking proper care of it. Irisviel had not said so explicitly, but it was obvious now that the tasks she was going to have to oversee were the kind of duties the king would not bother with. She, having worked at an inn for years, knew exactly how to manage a household and how to distribute the various tasks to the servants.

Before having the time to dwell in the humiliation of the bitter reality she was now in, she was whisked away in her duties. She gave orders gently and with some slight hesitation at first, not having been used to order anyone around until this day, and she was surprised by the easy compliance with which her directives were followed.

When it was almost lunchtime, she took notice of the fact that she had not seen her husband yet, but when she asked about him, she was informed that he was busy with his own duties.

She had to make a great effort in not showing how terribly her chest ached at realizing her incredible foolishness, for she had not asked anything about Gilgamesh’s obscure village hidden in the mountains before blindly accepting to marry him.

It was obvious that, while it was indeed a rich place and its administrative matters were handled well, everyday tasks were instead overlooked. Not many people seemed to be used to practical, perhaps apparently less important, but not any less concretely fundamental matters.

Everything, literally everything that concerned the smooth running of the castle was inadequate to say the least. The work to do there in that sense was immense, and indeed, she could see that it had not been an exaggeration when she had been told that they needed her to start ‘immediately’.

When it came down to giving directives to Irisviel herself, Arturia decided that it couldn’t hurt to cook together with her, teaching her some of her own recipes. Not only was that going to improve the quality of the kitchen – the first attempts had been enough to prove that cooking anything above basic meals wasn’t the white-haired woman’s forte – but it was also going to keep her mind occupied. Irisviel was after all a nice person and full of goodwill, but her abilities were not – yet, Arturia hoped – on par with her ambitious attempts.

By spending time in the kitchen, the blonde woman soon learned that her husband always had his meals in his study, which was on the other side of the large castle-house, and as a tray was being prepared for him, Arturia noticed that a jug of wine was being added, and inquired about it.

“I thought my husband didn’t drink,” were her surprised words, but Irisviel shook her head.

“He only accepts the most refined kind of wine, my lady, not the lesser quality ones. This wine is special and unique in the world, only produced in this village. It’s the best, and he never has a meal without drinking at least a full jug of it.”

Had she had the time for it, Arturia would have wallowed in the misery of feeling even more blind and stupid than she already did, for she had thought that her husband was better than other patrons since he did not get drunk or tipsy. But as it turned out, he had simply not wanted to lower himself to taste any _common_ wine, and only wanted the best kind of liquor – _his own_. She had completely misjudged his character, apparently.

Among all her tasks, Arturia did not get a moment of respite until after lunch, when the maids offered to draw her a bath and to bring her new, clean clothes that, as they told her, had belonged to the king’s mother.

Illya, one of the maids who was obviously Irisviel’s daughter, brought her her bag with her belongings and, at her inquiry, assured her that her mare, Milk, was in the stables, together with the king’s other horses as well. The girl then went to help out in the kitchen, leaving her alone for her bath.

Arturia could finally gather her wits during those few moments she had on her own, and she did her best to keep herself calm. She had to take several deep breaths before truly being able to think, while the hot water was thankfully helping her relax.

She was feeling numb all over and her heart felt the heaviest it had ever been.

She had been such an airheaded fool. From the very beginning, everything he had said, all his words, his explanations, his actions towards her, especially his gentleness… it had all been false kindness, a pretense, a way to manipulate her into feeling flattered and desired, and induce her to accept what he asked.

And she… she despised the fact that she had fallen for it like a complete and utter fool.

All of his comments on her that had made her heart flutter because they had seemed to be honest compliments… they had been nothing but his selfish desire to get things over with quickly. She had been vain and superficial in letting his words affect her like that, and he had taken full advantage of it, toying with the feelings she had so incautiously avoided to conceal and instead nourished and allowed him to see.

She was even more disgusted by the fact that he _had_ seen her for who she was, and he had manipulated her based on that. It would have been better if he had just stared at her lewdly, for then she would have been more cautious instead of falling for it.

No wonder he had been interested in her as a person; understanding her character had only made his entire manipulation easier.

Soon enough, the numbness was replaced by intense bitterness, for the realization of having been used stung. She had been – and still was – a pawn in her husband’s plans, and she had not even made things difficult for him… _she had played_ _right into his hand_.

Fury invaded her, making her forget about the ache in her chest, even if for just a moment. He had indeed manipulated her and had played with her… but she had _let_ him.

She had not thought things through, she had not acted with prudence, she had not acted with _sense_.

The mere fact that he had been civil to her and had not tried to grope her or to stare at her inappropriately had been enough to cloud her judgement and decide that marrying a total stranger and leave with him in a matter of hours was _a good idea_.

She was an enormous fool, and she had mostly herself to blame for the situation she was in now.

Indeed, she had created this situation on her own, she had not been forced into it. And being who she was, Arturia was not about to run away from it or find excuses to justify herself. She was not going to shrink away from the responsibilities she had thrust on herself and that were hers to deal with now.

She had made a mistake; she was therefore going to suffer the consequences with her head held high.

But she wasn’t the only one who was at fault for what had happened, and she knew it all too well.

...

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	5. Fight your fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many special thanks to HiddenCamellia and Asterne_In_a_Sky for enduring my pestering them with ideas for this story, and for their suggestions and encouragement to write them out ;)

…

…

…

As Gilgamesh walked into his bedroom after a long day full of tedious reports and meetings, he noticed several surprising things.

First, the bed had been skilfully made and was clearly untouched. Second, the room was practically spotless, all of Arturia’s – meagre – belongings on one side, neatly piled up together, with bed linens and her travel bag on top. Third, Arturia herself was sitting in a rocking chair that hadn’t been there before. He noted with slight disappointment that she was fully dressed, even her hair was still pinned up, and she was staring into the distance, her features unreadable.

He frowned. The fact that her face was so expressive was part of her charm; this sudden closing up of her feelings was odd and decidedly unwelcome.

It was true that she was likely angered and disappointed because he had not told her of what was truly expected of her, but surely she must have cooled off by now. The entire day, he had been thinking about kissing her again ever since he had kissed her in the carriage, no matter how many other things had required his attention.

Looking at her still stony face, however, it didn’t take him long to begin to realize that maybe she had been far more affected than he had previously thought. Everything in her posture indicated that she was barely holding herself in check: lips tightly shut, every movement of her chair ominously rigid, complete refusal to even glance in his direction.

She was more than just displeased, but what struck him as odd was that she wasn’t being an angry little girl with her feelings affected; she was a woman truly hurt and angered, and her cold fury was much more difficult to deal with than if she had been throwing a childish tantrum.

In any case, he could not remain silent when his wife was giving him the cold shoulder in such a way, so he opted for a subject he considered safe enough.

“I thought you were going to be ready for sleep, at this hour,” he said, with unusual cautiousness.

Her words were apathetic in tone.

“I’m not feeling inclined to sleep right now.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You have been working the entire day – you must be tired.”

She inclined her head a little, as if she found his words ironic.

“I have, and I am.”

Gilgamesh studied her. He did not like her detached behaviour, but before he had the time to find anything else to say, she finally stood up and faced him. There was so much coldness in her whole demeanour that a lesser man would have cowered in fear.

“You don’t want a wife, Gilgamesh. All you want is a person who does in your place what you don’t have the time or the patience to do. You want simply a _servant_.” She glared at him, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Well, let me give you my congratulations. You got what you wanted.”

He had not expected her to be so bitter towards him, but if he had to be honest with himself, he knew he shouldn’t have expected anything less from a woman of her moral integrity. He was also aware that he should have behaved differently towards her, but it was too late now.

He was not used to having anyone confront him though, nor was he used to such blunt sarcasm.

And she wasn’t finished. “You deceived me. You made me believe you cared about me as a person!” Her voice began to tremble in rage. “Knowing that I disliked living in that town, you were very careful in not telling me anything specific about your village so that I wouldn’t suspect anything. You knew that I was genuinely attracted to you, and you used that, playing with me and my feelings in order to make me _believe_ in you!”

He had to make an effort to hold back his internal flinching when he witnessed the _disgust_ in her expression as she gave him one of her most venomous glares. “I despise you for how you manipulated me, but I despise myself even more for falling for it like the naïve fool I am. How much you must have laughed at me every time you told me one of your sugar-coated lies and saw me believe each and every one of them!”

Gilgamesh discovered, to his actually amazed dismay, that it was impossible for him to get out even a word as her eyes flashed again, her speech becoming more cutting. “You are an incorrigible wretch of a person and you do nothing better than manipulate people into doing your bidding since you can’t be bothered to take on your responsibilities seriously! From the very beginning, you simply played your games without _ever_ being honest with me, Gilgamesh, and you know it fully well!”

She turned away from him, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and he could see that she was fighting with herself to only barely repress the full force of her anger. Since she was facing away from him, he could also see that her pinned-up hair was in a precarious equilibrium, and the slight shaking of her form indicated that she was close to exploding.

He did not want that, but he was having trouble in finding the words to reply to her verbal assault – because as much as he had not expected her to yell in his face, she had said very little that he could contradict.

But there were indeed things she was wrong about, and he was going to make sure she was corrected on those specific points.

Slowly, Gilgamesh came up behind her, and touched her shoulders lightly.

He felt her tensing up, but before she could shake him off, he quietly said, “You’re right.”

She stilled. He didn’t move either, and continued, “You’re right. I wasn’t honest with you. I didn’t explain the real reasons for which I needed a strong woman like you as my wife. I didn’t tell you why I truly needed a woman of your character as my queen. I also wasn’t honest,” she remained completely still as his hands slowly went to her pinned-up hair, beginning to untangle her braids with unexpected gentleness and unintentional sensuality, “in telling you how much you captivated me from the very first moment I laid my eyes on you.”

One lock after the other, her hair fell out of her bun, freed by his hands. “No matter how much my village was in need of a queen like you, I would not have asked for your hand if you had not been a woman I truly wanted. Not because of your appearance,” his fingers went through her now unbound tresses, “although no one can deny your beauty, it’s your behaviour and your personality that caught my eye.”

He leaned into her hair, his lips barely ghosting over it and his hands still buried in her golden locks. “Even when circumstances are against you, you are a person who holds her ground. You are honest, you are loyal and you are kind. So I chose you, because I liked you and I truly desired you. I asked you – and you accepted.”

His hands left her hair to go back to her shoulders. “I wasn’t completely honest with you, that’s true. I deceived you. As much as I dislike admitting it, I regret that – but I did not lie to you. Not once.”

His fingers played with the straps of her dress, inadvertently touching her skin lightly, and then, feeling no resistance, began to slowly move them down her shoulders.

But as soon as she felt the straps fall down, she abruptly took a step away from him. She brought her hands up to put the straps back in place, and slowly turned to face him. The look in her eyes was much less spiteful than before, yet none of her rightful anger was gone.

Not that he had expected it to. He knew that for a woman like her an explanation had been in order, but he also knew that it was not going to be enough. She wasn’t going to be calmed down by mere words; since she had been deceived by words at the beginning, she was not going to believe in them anymore. Now, only his actions could prove that he was being sincere.

There was a long silence, before she finally said, her voice holding an unidentifiable emotion, “Did it ever occur to you, Gilgamesh, that if you had told me the truth, I would have married you anyway?”

He had not lied to her until that moment, he wasn’t about to start now.

“It did,” he admitted with some slight annoyance. “And I will not attempt to justify it, for what I would say would not satisfy you. As you probably understand better than most, I made my choices for the good of my village, and I did consider telling you the truth of what was expected of you right away. But I decided–”

“–that it would be less troublesome, and probably safer for yourself, to just keep me in the dark and manipulate me,” she finished for him, her eyes becoming colder with each word she pronounced. The sigh that escaped her lips was surprising though. “Even though I feel insulted by the obviously low esteem you have of my intelligence, I cannot contradict you, as I did not prove much wisdom by naively coming with you anyway.”

She took another deep breath. “I will not refuse my new duties, Gilgamesh. I am not afraid of working hard for the good of this village, and you probably know that already. You wanted a wife who would take over some of your responsibilities; as I told you – you got what you wanted. I will do it. Willingly.”

He inclined his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. It was too simple to be true.

And indeed, once again, she wasn’t finished.

“However,” her voice raised a little, “while I will do anything that is required of me as the queen of this village, I will not be your wife in anything but name. I made a huge mistake in marrying you without knowing anything about you – a childish, naïve, irresponsible mistake; therefore, I will pay the consequences for it. But while I behaved like a complete and utter fool and must face my stupidity, _you_ are not free of blame in the least. You have proven that you would rather manipulate me than be honest with me, and I will not stand for that in my marriage. I will not have you close to me in any fashion, I will not share my bed with you and I will not accept you near me in _any_ kind of intimacy.”

She took a few steps closer. She wasn’t as tall as him, and she had to look up to meet his eyes, but that didn’t make any of her intense fury be less menacing.

“There are consequences for behaving thoughtlessly and I will face them, but there are consequences for deception as well, Gilgamesh. You didn’t just ‘not be completely honest’ with me; even if I gave you a hand in it, you consciously deceived me, playing me for a fool and knowing full well that you were toying with my affections. It’s too late to save my heart – for I could not stop myself from falling for you, as much as I loathe admitting it. You will get your queen, a ruler by your side as you wanted, but you will not get anything else from me. I will not share anything more of myself with a man like you.”

She couldn’t have made things any clearer than that. And oh, how he hated that the points that she had just brought up were too exact to be debated on.

Arturia turned her head a little, her unbound locks moving with her as if they were a golden halo around her, and stared at her things that were in a neat pile in one corner of the room.

“I understand that, if either of us sleeps elsewhere, it will not be seen favourably among your people. Therefore, you may stay in the room… but you are sleeping on the floor.”

Gilgamesh blinked. Had she just…? After soundly telling him off and prohibiting him to come anywhere near her, had she just _confined_ him to the floor?

That was nonsensical – there was no way this would be acceptable.

“You can’t be serious, Arturia.”

One look at her confirmed that she was actually _deadly_ serious.

“It wasn’t a request, Gilgamesh. You will give your wife the bed, and you will be sleeping on the floor. I had already prepared bed linens as I intended to sleep in another room, but it seems likely that you will be using them instead.”

He glared at her, still unable to register her words fully, and feeling frustration beginning to fill him.

“Arturia, this is _ridiculous_.”

“Is it?” she replied, her voice holding a dangerous edge to it, her beautiful green eyes now aflame with anger. “I no longer concern myself with your opinion, Gilgamesh. You have had your fun with me long enough already.”

He felt his anger grow as well, and he took a few abrupt steps forward, pulling her body against his harshly, finding himself with his mouth only a breath away from hers.

Being so close to the woman he had married and who captivated him more than anyone else made it truly hard for him to hold himself back from kissing her senseless.

“Don’t continue to reproach me solely because you’re angry, Arturia. My conduct wasn’t blameless, but I am not the unfeeling monster you are accusing me of being.”

He had to grit his teeth to stop himself from letting his eyes wander down to her lips. “I did not lie to you about being fascinated by you – nor about truly wanting you.”

The sudden push she gave him made him stumble backwards, but was not enough to free her from his hold completely.

“Indeed you wanted me,” she spat out, “but as a suitable candidate to dump your responsibilities on, not as a person. You don’t care one bit about me, about my past, about my life, about my desires, about my feelings, about my _thoughts_.”

“And do you care about _mine_ , Arturia?”

This took her aback. She became silent and stared at him, unable to reply. He took advantage of that to pull her closer to him again.

His words struck her, and she was forced to consider them with earnestness. While she had every right to be hurt, offended and angered by his deception, she had been so focused on the shattering of her own illusions that she had evaded considering what _his_ thoughts were on the matter.

She demanded her husband to care about her as a person; but could she claim to have cared about him as a person as well, at least so far? Could she claim she knew about _his_ feelings, thoughts and wishes?

His forehead came to rest against hers as he held her in his arms.

“I am not proud of the way I behaved to make you agree to marry me, that is true.” He paused, exhaling heavily. “But it can’t be undone. We _are_ married now, and we don’t know much of one another – _yet_.”

His lips ghosted over hers, but he knew that she would not have tolerated him kissing her right now. They were both too full of ire and resentment, and he did not intend to associate a kiss with those feelings.

He continued, voice lowering, “You have the right to be angry, Arturia. In your place, I would be as well. I will not try to excuse what I did and which indeed hurt you. But I do ask you to consider the fact that _neither_ of us had the time to truly get to know the other. We have that time now – the time to _understand_ as well.”

She was silent for a long while, and he could see an ocean of emotions swimming in her eyes, too quickly for him to recognize them all, as she took her time to absorb the full meaning of his words.

In the end, however, she pulled back from him with uncertain quietness, as if still trying to decide. He did not resist for more than a second, letting her go and allowing her to put some distance between them.

“I see what you mean. Given the current situation, we have indeed time now to _understand_ each other better… but I ask of you to give me first some time to give this new proposal of yours some consideration. I did not have the time to consider your marriage proposal yesterday; I would like to weigh things more carefully from now on.”

Giving him a sharp glance, she added, “And you are still sleeping on the floor.”

There was something a little less cold in that sentence, in spite of its contents, and he had the gall to smirk slightly.

“This is not exactly how I envisioned my wedding night to be,” he commented, his tone lighter than it had been that entire evening.

The next instant, he had to take a step to the side to avoid the bed linens and blankets that she, for all reply, tossed with precise aim in the direction of his face.

“Pitiful, indeed,” she dryly replied, before finally going to lie down on the bed the maids had made up under her directives earlier.

As he started to arrange the blankets in a manner that was going to be comfortable, Gilgamesh felt secretly pleased that, at the very least, neither of them was going to fall asleep in cold anger.

Arturia wasn’t going to be forgiving, for he had indeed betrayed her initial easy trust in him, but he knew, even if he had not known her for long, that she was a fair person, and she was going to give his new proposal her full consideration.

And if she agreed to it, well… They had time now to slowly get to know each other.

After all, he mused, there were worse ways to start a marriage.

...

...

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the first instalment in the Far on the Water series. The following parts are the in the (slow) process of being written.  
> Once again, heartfelt thanks to MimiBlue for her excellent beta work!!! :D


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